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Loves Labour Lost by William Shakespeare
page 15 of 128 (11%)
your olde time, which we may name tough

Brag. Pretty and apt

Boy. How meane you sir, I pretty, and my saying apt?
or I apt, and my saying prettie?
Brag. Thou pretty because little

Boy. Little pretty, because little: wherefore apt?
Brag. And therefore apt, because quicke

Boy. Speake you this in my praise Master?
Brag. In thy condigne praise

Boy. I will praise an Eele with the same praise

Brag. What? that an Eele is ingenuous

Boy. That an Eele is quicke

Brag. I doe say thou art quicke in answeres. Thou
heat'st my bloud

Boy. I am answer'd sir

Brag. I loue not to be crost

Boy. He speakes the meere contrary, crosses loue not him

Br. I haue promis'd to study iij. yeres with the Duke
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